The Mage Emperor
by thephilosophyofafreewizard
Summary: The war has ended and Harry Potter looks forward to living a life of peace. But it looks like it's not to be. What happens to Harry's life when Dumbledore steps in, changes it, and all appears to be lost at the start. It looks like killing Voldemort was just the beginning. The Savior's true path is revealed. Will Harry accept it? Or will things turn bleak for the wizarding world.


**DISCLAIMER ALERT:**

I do not own the Harry Potter novels, its characters, or the plot-line. It all belongs to JK Rowling. So…Don't sue me. I'm broke. :)

**Author:** thephilosophyofafreewizard

**Story Title:** The New Age of the Mage Emperor

**Rating:** Fiction M

**Warnings: **Evil!Dumbledore, Ron!Bashing, Hermione!Bashing, Gryffindor!Bashing, McGonagall!Bashing, Vulgarity, AU, H/C, M/M, Gore.

**Author Note:**

Hi, everyone! This fanfiction is going to be very AU, featuring my own take on magic, the Wizarding world, and all that comes with both. If you want a canon fanfic, then this is not the story for you. That being said, I hope you'll give it a chance anyway and give me some constructive criticism.

Please keep the above warnings in mind. Those are it _for the moment_. If I come up with something for the plotline that will add an element you should be warned about, I will notify you immediately beneath the following heading:

**NEW WARNING ALERT! NEW WARNING ALERT!**

So no one can say I didn't warn them. :)

All warnings except the H/C and M/M are very pertinent for this first chapter.

Now, without further delay, let the story begin!

**Chapter 1:** Natural Gifts

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you will not move another inch!"

Lucius cringed inwardly and heaved a little sigh. He should have known better than to try and catch her in her sleep. The blasted woman wakes at the touch of a feather.

"You do know this is a wedding ring right?"

"Of course!"

"Oh, so sorry then. I thought you had it confused for a _chastity_ ring. Something I did not pay more than 20 _thousand_ galleons for. "

"It's hardly my fault I refuse to be abused by your…your…!"

"Merlin, woman! Penis! You always were a drama queen, Narcissa. It's the main reason I dreaded marrying you. It's hardly my fault you can't handle my cock."

Lucius smirked at his wife's look of disgust. Twenty years of marriage and she still can't handle sexual or even biological terms for the human body. To her, vagina is equally as gross as "cunt" or "snatch" or "pussy." He, on the other hand, has no such reservations. In fact, he frequently amuses himself twisting the stick shoved up her sissy pureblood arse.

"Lucius!"

"They're words, 'Cissa; words that I'm sure originated as suggestive euphemisms for simple biological terms. Really! They were made to be said in front of people like yourself."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed and Lucius could see her raise her hackles.

"And precisely what 'people' are those, Lucius?"

There was a time that threat would have worked. But that was long ago, when he feared her withholding.

"Why, my dear 'Cissa. I thought you knew."

"Knew iwhat/i?"

"That even after twenty years of marriage, you're still a prude with her arse clenched tight around her wand. Surely this comes as no surprise. I'm shocked you don't suffer _internal bleeding_."

Just like Lucius predicted, his wife stood to her full height and like a proud and pampered cat denied her favorite toy, hissed through her teeth and unleashed a whirlwind of vitriolic fury the likes of which Lucius had already seen and grown bored of. While his wife cleared a war path, Lucius frowned. Many times, he's cursed his parents and their antiquated pureblood traditions, but lately, he's been blaming himself. It was his fault in the end. His parents were perfectly willing to have him choose his own bride, but he had been stubborn and refused to pick from the selection they gave him. Eventually, as his twentieth birthday approached, they grew sick of waiting and declared that if he wouldn't choose his wife, they would choose her for him. And alas…Here he is. Miserable. He doesn't regret his values, because they've made his son so very happy, but he does regret the misfortune it's brought his self.

"And I'll have you know…"

Just as Lucius was beginning to get a little maudlin and Narcissa was finally reaching the end of her rant, both were disturbed by a series of knocks at the door. Lucius sighed in relief. His son must have heard them and come to rescue him. He really will have to give the boy a raise.

He passed his still seething wife and quickly opened the door.

"Draco, my son."

Draco did not miss the look of relief in his father's eyes.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything important, but I came to remind you about our trip, father. I know we planned it for the afternoon, but I thought that we could have breakfast at this wonderful café I found last week."

Translation: Freedom!

"New, you say? Well we simply have to go! I hope you don't mind, 'Cissa. Male bonding time and all that. So glad you understand. Ta ta!"

Fortunately, looks can't kill.

"Father, I just don't understand you. Why are you still with mother after all these years? It's obvious you two just don't match at all."

"Draco, she's your mother," Lucius drawls.

"And? You're my father. Should I ignore your unhappiness simply because its cause was my vessel for eight-and-a-half months? I know that sounds cold, but I also know your marriage with mother was never one of love."

Lucius's eyebrow crinkled. Lucius and Narcissa both worked hard to avoid letting their son know about their…_lackluster_ relationship. It was one of the few things they agreed upon. To know that his son was still perceptive enough, or that they were obvious enough, to tell was disconcerting. Lucius wanted a happy childhood for Draco.

"Oh, don't look so disappointed, father. I only noticed a few inconsistencies. I wasn't even able to put them together until my mid teens. First, there is when I was four and asked about the birds and the bees. Mother flipped while you calmly explained it to me like I hadn't just asked, "daddy, what's fucking?" Oh! Then there's the wedding renewal. You wanted something small and private, but mother wanted this huge affair officiated by the Minister of Magic. During the ruddy thing you looked like you'd rather be gutting a fish with your bare hands than renewing vows with your wife. And don't think I haven't noticed the fact that I'm still an only child after all these years. You wanted more children, father. I asked Uncle Sev. It's mother who can't bear the thought of once more ruining her 'feminine figure'. You say small she says big. She says yes, you say no. She's constantly nagging in your ears about something or another and the both of you work so terribly hard playing 'let's avoid the roommate'. If I was in your place, can you honestly say you'd be happy for me? I mean…Look at how your manners are right now. Your elbow is on the table, you're holding your utensils all wrong, and you've already cut up all your food. If mother saw you she'd have a fit! Your ears would be bleeding over how you're not doing your pureblood heritage justice."

Lucius looked down and saw that his elbows were indeed resting on the table, his knife was not in his palm, and the pancakes the waiter brought to him not even 2 minutes ago were already cut up into separate little pieces. "Father _would_ have been horrified."

"You couldn't care less! That's my point. You like to relax every once in a while and she always has to keep up pretenses. Besides, saying you're staying with her for me is like saying you have a dog to keep the cat company. We barely spend time together. I call her mother as a mere formality, so if you're waiting for my blessings, don't bother! You've had them."

Draco smiled when his father gave one of his playful scoffs.

"You, my son, are a traitorous little beast. What would your poor mother think; having not even her own son on her side?"

Draco's wry grin was accompanied by a dry chuckle. "She'd probably be thinking of ways to get her revenge. You know our love/hate thing was mutual. I loved and…she hated…which made me try to love her more. Nothing much has changed except that now my seemingly unending propensity to love her is broken and all that's left is a burning bitterness that closely rides the border of hatred."

Lucius winced. "I'm sorry. I truly wanted you to be happy."

"I am! Most of my best childhood memories are with you. If I needed anything, I knew I could depend on you."

Lucius smirked. "How sweet…Tell me again. _How _did you end up in Slytherin? Besides, what would our allies think?"

"What in Merlin's balls took him so long?" His father gave him that look and Draco shrugged it off neatly. "Something like that at least."

"So what are you suggesting I do? Draw up the divorce papers this minute? I have to…"

"Why not?"

"iExcuse/i me?"

"Why not draw up the divorce papers right now. There is no time like the present and it'll bring a fresh start to the new semester. At least it will give my classmates something to talk about behind my back. Positive publicity."

"How is that positive publicity?"

Draco waved away the issue. "I'll make it work somehow. The important thing is that you, father, let go the anchor."

He draws up the papers

"You can't divorce me! What about Draco? You're not going to deprive him of his mother, are you?"

Narcissa smirked, but Lucius only smirked wider, which caused Narcissa's lowly smirk to slide right off her face.

"You were never a mother to Draco, 'Cissa. To be honest, I should've left when Draco was 4 and Lady Zabini came to me asking why our son was claiming he didn't have a mother to her's. Do you know what he said? He said and I quote, "I see this lady walking around once in a while, but I don't think she's my mother. Maybe she's my daddy's girlfriend! I don't like her very much, though…Hope he doesn't marry her." You know, it's quite funny. Your son barely acknowledges you as his mother, and you've just reached the root of why the other mothers won't leave you watch of their children. You should really put a silencer on that woman. She talks entirely too much."

"He's my son!"

"Do stop with the dramatics. You're giving me a headache. You weren't even there to change his diapers or watch him take his first steps. You only attended his piano recitals at the threat of humiliation before the others. Then, to top it all off, you barely complimented him. Admit it…You were always a terrible mother."

"I've always loved my son."

"I know. Just not enough to make him hate me when I give you the boot."

"I won't sign."

Lucius knew she was going to be stubborn about this. She does stand to lose a lot of prestige and wealth. That's why he prepared a backup plan. "Don't sign and I promise you I'll have the loudest affair in pureblood history. Even louder than your Great Grandmother's. iShe/i did it in public."

OOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

She signs the papers and moves out the next day

OOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

"Good morning, father!"

"Good morning, Draco. I trust your night went well?"

"Well enough, I suppose. I kept having these awful nightmares."

"Oh?"

"Mmn. Weird thing is they were all about Potter."

"How odd…" His father's sarcastic drawl told Draco just what his father thought of his potter-centric nightmares.

"Not ithose/i nightmares. He was crying in this one and believe it or not, it wasn't my fault. He was sitting in the Great Hall, everyone was sitting around him, and he was crying but nobody seemed to care. These weren't silent tears either. They were these loud wracking sobs you'd have to be blind, deaf, or stupid to miss."

"Perhaps you should watch him this semester. Dreams like those suggest inner turmoil."

"But…I've never seen him cry before, so how are my dreams projecting the image?"

"I wish I could answer you, son, but I'm neither a psychologist nor a seer."

"Obviously, or I'd have an entirely different set of ears and possibly fatter fingers and whatnot."

"Don't say that, Draco." Lucius frowned lightly. "I know you hardly intended to infer this, but I don't regret marrying your mother as much as I should, because out of that horrid deal, I ended up with you; a son who looks perfect just the way he is."

"You've never looked at another woman and wished I had her eyes?"

"Why on earth would I? Your eyes come from my side of the family."

"Father…"

Draco huffed and Lucius smirked. "No, son. I haven't. If I had the chance to go back in time, I wouldn't change a thing. Not really, anyway. I'd still suffer that awful first shag with your mother."

Draco's face twisted in fascinated disgust. "Ew! Really?"

"She laid there like a board and let me do all the work. Not to mention, I'm not entirely sure I'm straight."

"You mean…"

"Yes. My parents sort of rushed me, so I never really had the time to explore that side of my sexuality, but I've always held the suspicion."

"How? I mean…What made you think that?"

"If what you mean to ask is "what do you find so attractive about men," I'm not sure you want to hear the answer."

"I do, though! I'm…curious."

Draco realized his reply was too quick, and he ended up staring at his plate; blushing like an idiot. Meanwhile, Lucius smiled and took pity on his embarrassed son.

"I simply find that a part of me reacts quite nicely to the fit male form."

Draco once again cringed in fascinated horror.

Lucius glanced up from his newspaper. "My feelings are not necessarily unnatural, and you asked. Those words fit my sentiments perfectly, so those were the ones I used. Trying to cover the crassness of them with flowery platitudes wouldn't answer your question and wouldn't be as honest. Besides…"

"Yes, yes, father. I understand. Doesn't make it anymore uncomfortable to know my father would like to be sexually active."

"Well I'm not ancient."

Draco rolled his eyes and grabbed a muffin from the center tray.

"So do you have anyone in mind, father? Surely now that you have the time, you'll try to…explore…a bit."

"Hmm…I think Severus is somewhat attractive."

Draco almost choked on his muffin. "Ew! Ew! Father, why!? Please tell me you're joking."

"Of course I'm joking. I'm not even sure about Severus's sexuality. He's only ever loved one person, and that was a woman. He might be bi-sexual."

Draco gave up on having a muffin after the third choking fit, and grabbed a tomato sandwich. "Just…not Uncle Sev. Pick someone who isn't my godfather. Besides, wouldn't you prefer someone a bit younger and not so bitter with life?"

Lucius smirked. "How much younger…?"

Draco paled, which is difficult. "U-Um…Age of consent…?"

Lucius pouted. "That's not fun at all."

Lucius chuckled at his son's look of growing horror. "I'm just joking! Honestly. What type of man do you think I am? Fate has mixed both your mother and I into you. You're just as lewd as me, but you can't bear to hear/speak your feelings. I don't want you depriving yourself of perfectly natural desires simply because decorum dictates so. There's a time and place for everything, and when you're with a significant other, decorum has no time or place."

Draco blushed. "Yes, father."

Lucius smiled smugly. It could be never denied that his son was adorable. And though Malfoys are only ever devilishly handsome, Draco managed to be both. And he could live with that.

**Mission:** Loosen Draco up

**Step 1:** Fluster

**Step 1 Status: **Successfully Completed

**Mission Status:** In Progress…

First Day of School Year

Draco, along-side his Slytherin friends, stared up at the Head Table in disbelief. Sitting there, proud and composed was Draco's father.

Blaise just looked surprised. "Draco! Is that…"

"Of course it is," hissed Draco.

"Did you…"

"Of course, not!"

"Why don't you seem happy? Your dad's great, isn't he?"

It wasn't necessarily that Draco was upset…He was just…surprised. When he comes to Hogwarts, the one thing he hates are surprises. It's been that way since First Year when he realized his father wasn't going to be there on a regular basis to help him out. Uncle Sev was there, but he was often busy and barely had time for Draco, though he tried to make time. He'd felt…unsafe. He worked hard to set up a predictable routine that gave him some semblance of control. He separated school from home. As such, school was never home for him like it was for most of his classmates. The first month of every year was always the hardest. His father teaching at Hogwarts (a fact his classmates seemed to find not too upsetting), mixed school and home. Contrary to popular thought, Draco forms attachments very easily, and he's formed an attachment with his father since birth. He figures it won't end until he can find someone else to attach himself to.

Draco tried to ward off suspicion with a laugh. "Yeah, he's cool. I just wish he'd talked about it with me first!"

Draco then proceeded to ignore Blaise's lecture on the health disadvantages of being a control freak. Yoga blah blah blah meditation blah blah blah Brahman blah blah blah. In Draco's opinion, Blaise is far too fascinated with Muggle medicine.

While the Gryffindors freaked out about Lucius Malfoy teaching in their school, Harry barely noticed. Rather, he was focused on the events of last semester. Five months…Five months since his defeat of Lord Voldemort. Before the dark lord's end, he was dead; living an existence not his own. The Dark Lord falling to his knees was like the cry of a baby after exiting the womb. He was relieved. He'd been freed at last. If only he'd known that cry wasn't really a cry of birth but one of pain. This is all metaphorically, of course. He can't be so fortunate as to experience a literal death. That fortune has been forbidden to him since birth. No one spoke to him, but Harry was alright with that. It makes sense, after all. It was insane the first two months when everyone wanted to know how he did it. Now that everyone had the story, no one cared anymore. Who needs the savior of the wizarding world when he's already done saving the wizarding world? He used to be sad, but then he realized it was nothing different from living with the Dursleys. He guessed he was foolish to think he could escape; that he could become something of worth to someone…that he could have _friends_.

Harry sighed and eyed a pearing knife lying next to his plate. The ministry seized his wand when the battle ended, for "observations". They've had yet to give it back, making Harry think they took it for a bit more than "observations". It certainly doesn't help that Ollivander refuses to give him a new one. He's not sure _how_ they expect him to go to school without a wand. Bloody idiots.

Suddenly, Harry jumped in his seat. When he looked down to his left, he saw a pale hand resting comfortably on his waist. Harry looked at it as if it was diseased.

"Wulfric. If you don't remove your hand in two seconds, I'm going to cut it off."

"And just what with, _Harry_? Last I remember, you don't have a wand." The bastard's voice dripped with smugness and two seconds later, the hand was still there.

Rage flashed through Harry. Julius Reginald Wulfric Dumbledore was Albus Dumbledore's nephew, and thought that meant the world and all it encompassed was his to claim. Early in the summer, he'd come to the Black family Manor and had instantly decided he would claim Harry as property. And Harry doesn't mind possessive men. He found them oddly attractive. But Julius screamed jackass. And that turned Harry off. But despite all Harry's attempts to turn him away, the boy was too dumb to take a hint. Even blatant threats on his life.

The hand was still on his waist. Harry eyed the pearing knife with more interest. He grabbed the knife and pricked his finger against the tip to test its sharpness. Briefly, he contemplated cutting the hand off, but realized he couldn't reach it. But there was something close he could reach.

"I'm giving you a final warning, Dumbledore. Let go of me."

But Julius snorted and dismissed Harry's words. Harry, in turn, dismissed the remnants of his frayed conscience. He palmed the pearing knife in his right hand and gripped the handle's length so the point was facing downwards. Slowly, he readjusted himself in his seat till he was facing inward left and re-adjusted his fingers on the handle until the grip was perfect. Meanwhile, Julius re-positioned his arm to have a better grip on Harry's waist; unwittingly leaving his arm out in the open. His hand was suddenly easy access, but with it so close to Harry's waist, Harry wasn't willing to risk it. Instead, he eyed his new target with interest. He held the knife so it was facing left.

Then he turned; one smooth motion that didn't end until the knife was plunged deep into the fleshy, spongy muscle of Julius's shoulder. The alert a first-year called out had been too late. Julius screamed. And Harry had smiled as he yanked the knife out and watched the blood gushing.

"I told you to leave me alone. You've been pursuing me for almost three months now, and I've told you every time that I don't care who you are. I still want nothing to do with an arse like you. I even tried to drown you! Maybe now you'll understand."

Then he stood up. It would be a while before anyone bothered him. Of that, at least, Harry was certain.

Harry ignored McGonagall's frantic calls and the screams of his classmates, and walked out the door. There's a hollowness in his chest. Oddly, he doesn't know where it's from. Harry became aware of it one month ago and ever since then, incidents like this have been happening. At least it helps keep everyone at a distance. Ron hasn't spoken to him since he tried to bash the redhead's face against a tree. And Hermione hasn't spoken to him since he burned her prized limited edition copy of Hogwarts: A History. Maybe he'll find a nice, quiet place to take a nap. The Room of Requirement should do nicely.

But Harry had yet to find his quiet spot. Instead, Harry was sitting in a chair, tapping his foot through the air rapidly, trying to appear attentive so the meeting would move quickly.

_'How long is this fucking lecture going to take? She's been through proper Gryffindor behavior, general etiquette, morality…Fuck. Guilt-tripping.'_

Harry tilted his head back a bit and rolled his eyes as his foot tapped faster; the only sign of Harry's explosive mental sigh.

"Mr. Potter! Are you listening to me!?"

'_Fuck. No. No I wasn't.'_

Harry straightened his back and worked hard to not yawn. Really hard. Honestly! But now that he thinks about it, he can't even really summarize the last five minutes.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall sighs in her most motherly voice. "What in Merlin's name is…"

But Harry's foot had never stopped tapping. And he was tired. And angry. So. _Very _angry. And for the first time in Harry's life, he wasn't willing to sit quietly and listen as an adult patronized him. When he stood up, McGonagall was shocked out of her haphazardly planned speech. "I can't do this."

"I beg your…!"

"The truth is, you're not my mother. In fact, I don't even consider you an advisor, or someone of importance to me, making this speech fairly pointless. You're not going to guilt me into apologizing or persuade me to change. I quite frankly don't know how you expect me to listen to _anything _you have to say when you stood there and watched as they STOLE my WAND! They IMPRISONED me in that house. I don't know how you think you have _any right_ at this moment or any moment in the future quite honestly, to dictate how I _should_ and _should not_ behave. You betrayed me. FOOLED me into TRUSTING YOU! But I guess honesty was never supposed to be one of Gryffindor's traits. You were in that house when I suffered through 3 weeks of magic withdrawal, and said nothing. Tell me, Head of Gryffindor House. When Dumbledore locked me in that Merlin forbidden room and broke my wand - when I screamed in pain till I coughed up blood…Was it a lack of desire that kept you from helping me, or was it cowardice? I can't imagine it was a lack of desire. Surely not. Even _Professor Snape, _who, I remind you, HATES MY FUCKING GUTS...tried to save me. No. You were just too much of a coward to stop him." Harry laughed hysterically. "So what does this say? How is it possible I think the Head of Slytherin has a better idea than the Head of Gryffindor what it means to be a Gryffindor? I never thought I would regret the choice I made first year. But right now…" Harry took in a shaky breathe that, despite his best efforts, failed to hold back his tears. "Right now, I really really hate being a Gryffindor. And I really really hate you. And I want to listen to this lecture about as much as I want to gouge my eyes out with a cold spoon. So..." Harry looked at the clock. "Since there's nothing more you can say and you've already wasted 30 minutes of my life…I'm going to go."

McGonagall gaped as Harry left.

While Harry searched for a quiet alcove, Lucius wondered just what happened to the Harry Potter he faced off with; the one who smirked and stole his house elf all while sporting a ghastly gash. He saw a bit of him in the stabbing, but it seemed exaggerated and cruel. He'd never known Harry Potter to stab someone for no reasons other than anger and/or making a point.

_"Could it be…Surely not."_

"What on earth is going on, Severus?"

The Potions Master raised his eyebrow at the interest, but left it to curiosity.

"At the beginning of this summer, the Ministry confiscated Potter's wand. They claim to be doing an investigation, but I have it on good authority they don't intend on returning it."

"Good authority?"

"I saw Dumbledore break it."

"I see…They intend to cripple him."

"Of course."

Lucius tsked under his breathe. "And why was Dumbledore a part of this?

"His job is now done. The Ministry fears what he'll do in the future, and Dumbledore…He…"

Now it was Lucius's turn to raise his eyebrow. "My my, Severus. Is this discontent I hear?"

It wasn't until towards the end of the war Lucius learned where his best friend's loyalty truly lay; when the man came to him worried, he'd never seen Severus Snape worried in his life, and begged (as much as a man like Severus Snape can beg_) _Lucius to switch sides. Lucius was, for lack of a better word, baffled. His oldest friend was not foolish enough to try lauding Dumbledore's "finer points". No. Indeed, appealing to Lucius's Slytherin side was better serving.

The Dark Lord is sinking. Jump ship…Or go under.

It only took some well-placed, unreciprocated insults for Lucius to realize Severus held some strange kind of trust in Dumbledore. The nature or reason for this trust, Lucius has yet to understand.

Severus is too smart for brainwashing, but a spell or a potion…Alas! He already tied the man down and checked.

For the longest time, there was no response. Severus Snape is not a man to wear his heart on his sleeve, but if you look closely, focus on his eyes, you'll see more than you expect. If only…

"I couldn't listen."

Oh well. "Couldn't listen to what?"

"He screamed. He would spend…_hours _and _hours_…just screaming, Luc. He was like that for _weeks _and no one would do anything about it. They left me to watch him. They thought I wouldn't care. That I'd get some kind of…sick amusement from it. But what amusement is there to get from the sound of nails trying to scratch their way through a door?"

Lucius was surprised by the horror that haunted his friend's eyes. "Severus…"

"I couldn't take it anymore. I tried to free him, but I tripped a spell. Before I could open the door, Dumbledore stopped me. They never left me watch again. From then on, the job was left to McGonagall."

"What was wrong with Potter?"

"They took his wand and tried to permanently bind his magic, but his magic wouldn't take to the bind. Dumbledore was forcing it and Potter was rejecting it."

It was with morbid curiosity Lucius asked his next question. "Who won?"

Severus paused again, thinking about the answer. It wasn't like Dumbledore made a public declaration to the Order. One day Potter was screaming…The next he wasn't. "I don't know. He doesn't look broken, so I'm guessing Potter won. Now that I think about it, for a whole week, Dumbledore was in a foul mood."

"Let me guess. You're discontent because you don't know why Dumbledore did that to Potter."

"No. I'm discontent because I don't know _how _Dumbledore _could _do that to Potter. I've tortured people till they screamed and bled from their throats. I've…I've even killed children, Luc. I still have nightmares. But this…This was something different. Potter sounded like his very soul was being ripped out of his body. I couldn't sleep. Then, one day…He stopped. The sudden silence was equally haunting. For a week, I wasn't sure if he lived or had died. McGonagall had left for some business. And Dumbledore never assigned anyone to replace her for watch. We didn't know until someone came to check up on him and saw him sitting on the street. The house couldn't be accessed anymore."

"Couldn't be accessed?"

"He burned it down."

They both sat in silence, watching the other professors calm down the children. Severus had no need to get up. His Slytherins were merely whispering excitedly. Lucius re-started the conversation.

"He's losing his mind."

"Definitely."

"And that means he can't ever hold a wand again."

Professor Snape paused. "I'm not sure if that wasn't the plan all along."

Lucius was deeply uncomfortable. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't imagine living without magic. "So how is he going to continue his education?"

"He isn't. He's here only so Dumbledore can keep watch over him and because he's reached maturity, meaning his muggle family is no longer willing to house him."

Lord Malfoy was infuriated. He'd never liked Harry Potter. The boy stole his elf, after all. But as a pureblood, he couldn't bear the thought of someone purposely crippling a wizard. "Surely you plan to do something? A school should never become a prison."

"And yet…"Professor Snape sighed and nodded. "I do not know yet what we can do for the child, but I have already decided I must do something."

"I thought you disliked Potter."

"He saved me, Luc. In the final battle, that twice damned snake bit me and I was dying. When the battle was over and I was nowhere to be seen, Potter was the one to find me and drag me from the Shrieking Shack to Madame Pompfrey. I thought he hated me. I made sure he hated me. But he was the only one to find my life worth saving. Then…He thanked me."

"Thanked you?"

"He _thanked me_ for attempting to free him. He said he could tell it was me. I don't know how, and he couldn't explain it. But he knew it was me. And he thanked me for it. He hasn't cried. He hasn't raved. Except for the brief moments of insanity, he's been quiet. Perhaps…" Lucius remained silent.

Lucius smiled and remained quiet, knowing that his friend was coming to terms with a not-so-bad Potter.

"Whatever I do, it can't be obvious. After the failed rescue, Dumbledore will watch any interaction between Potter and me very closely."

"Well, I'll do whatever you can't."

Now it was Severus's turn to raise his eyebrow. "And what is your reason for helping Potter?"

Lucius frowned. "It is true Potter did not save me and that the relationship between him and me was terrible at worst and nonexistent at best. But it is my firmest opinion Magic is sacred. A wizard cannot be a wizard without it. Taking away someone's birth-right to be a wizard (indirectly or directly) is something I cannot accept. If only for that conviction, Severus, I will help him."

2 Unsuccessful Days Later

The Opening Feast had landed on a Thursday and the Headmaster had decided to gift the students Friday off, so Lucius and Severus had decided to put the three day weekend to good use and plan.

But it was two days in.

And they were lost.

"There must be something we're doing wrong!"

"You think?"

And stress had apparently set in.

"Well there's no need to get testy with me, Severus Snape."

"I'm sorry, Lucius. I just never considered this the time for stating the obvious!"

Angry, Lucius took in a deep breath and let it out. He knew Severus. Severus was always the one to fall prey to high tensions. How the dour Potions Master lasted so long as a spy Lucius'll never know. Instead of getting his feathers all ruffled with something he couldn't be surprised about, Lucius thrust a cup of hot coffee in his friend's face.

"Here. Drink it, hold it, snort it like a muggle, I don't care. Just stop upsetting me. I don't think we can handle both of us getting moody."

Severus sighed and grabbed the cup gratefully. "I warn you. This is my seventh cup."

Lucius snorted in amusement. "I can only deal with situations as they present themselves, Severus. I will deal with the consequences of over-caffeinating you later." The Potions Master smiled. "In the meantime…Let's return our focus to Potter."

And the smile slid right off. "Potter Potter Potter. I've had nothing but Potter on my mind for two days. I could've sworn I saw him in my tea leaves!"

Lucius rolled his eyes at the dramatic shudder. "I would love to take a break, but we only have one day left before classes begin. And I feel like the solution is right at the edge of my mind, but it keeps running off."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Well I'm going to stretch my legs."

Lucius gave a vague wave in farewell; his mind long already elsewhere. All texts on magical theory consider magic intrinsic to a wizard or witch's spiritual form, making it separate from the body and therefore eternal. So magic can never be stolen; only blocked from being accessed by the body. But Dumbledore failed to block Potter's magic. And if he was able to burn the house down by accidental magic alone, then his magic was still able to manifest. But without a wand, he wasn't able to control it. And now that he's been a month without his wand, he can't ever use one again.

Suddenly, Lucius wondered why. Why can't Potter use a wand again? Isn't it a simple matter of replacing it? He never understood that. It was simply something all purebloods were taught from childhood; a wizard who goes a month without a wand can never hold that or another.

Ten minutes later, Severus returned. "Any new thoughts?"

"Why can't wands be replaced?"

Severus who'd picked up his coffee to sip, paused to stare confused at his friend. "Why can't wands be replaced?"

"Yes. As a child, like all pureblood children, I was taught if your wand breaks, you have a week to fix it or replace it. After the week, you can only fix it. After a month, you can never hold that wand or another again. No one, however, ever explained to me why."

"Well, it's just…because…" Severus's face developed into one of bewilderment. "I don't know…"

"Precisely. I don't know either. Yet I feel that is a question we have to answer before we can help Potter."

Then Lucius walked out the room; leaving Severus to trail after him. . "Wait! Where are you going?"

"To see Professor Flitwick."

"Filius? Whatever for?"

"Well he's quite a skilled Dueler, and from what I remember very knowledgeable about magical theory. If I want to know anything about what prevents a wand from being replaced after that first week, then he's the best place to start."

But Flitwick greeted the question with a look of fascination. "That's quite a splendid question, Lord Malfoy! I'm afraid I don't know the answer immediately. However, I am indeed well versed in magical theory. I'm sure I can come up with an acceptable place to start over tea and cookies if you have time."

And so the men all sat down to tea and oatmeal cookies in Flitwick's office.

Flitwick began the discussion, finding it immensely fascinating such a fact could have gone dismissed. "Well let's start from the outside, shall we? Contrary to popular belief, the connection between a wizard and his wand is not sacred. It's actually, in a way, blasphemous."

Both of Flitwick's guests stared at each other in surprise. Blasphemous!?

"Oh dear. It appears you two held the popular belief. Well then let's be even more abstract. When a child first goes for his wand, what is the experience? Does he merely grab a wand and walk out, or must he test it first?"

Severus answered. "He must first test it, to see which wand suits him best."

"Hmm…But what is the nature of that fitting?"

The nature of the fitting?

"I don't understand, Filius. Certain wand cores suit certain affinities. Of course there must be a testing."

"Yes, but you are missing the point of my question. What is the _nature _of that fitting? I ask that the same way someone questions what the nature of any relationship is."

Now Lucius answered. "Well a positive one, of course. Through the fitting of a wand to a wizard, a wizard is better able to control his magic. Without it, he's completely unable to make any significant use of his core."

Flitwick smiled. "Is that so? I believe I've answered the question you came to me with, sirs."

Both guests stared in surprise.

"Yes. But I'll let you discover it on your own. Let's continue our discussion, shall we?

"You assume the relationship is a positive one because of the positive consequences. But you are not thinking about it from the perspective of the core itself. How does the wand connect with your magical core? Does it meet some requirement your core has, therefore "accessing" your core like one accesses a door with a key, or does your wand access your core the way a burglar accesses your furniture and jewelry. Does this connection fulfill something within your core, does it fulfill nothing, or does it, in fact, steal something from your core. If it fulfills, what does it fulfill? If it steals, what does it steal? Is this thing, fulfilled or stolen, important? How important? What is lost or gained both directly and indirectly?"

Flitwick smiled at the stricken look on their faces. These were questions incredibly few wizards ever ask themselves. The ones who ask make amazing discoveries that revolutionize their entire way of thinking about magic and how they use it.

"Filius. Are you saying…?"

"Yes. The relationship between a wand and a wizard, while beneficial to the average wizard, is not a positive one. It's a malicious one." He continued before either man could interrupt with objections and questions. "A wand does not access your core the way a key fits into a lock. Not really. It more accurately accesses the way a burglar looks at your house and assesses which parts of your wards are weakest to him. When he finds those parts, he breaks those parts, enters your property and then takes what he wishes. Except a wand is worse. A wand does a hostile take-over. It uses its affinity to weaken your core, binds and ties your magic, and takes some whenever you perform a spell." And now Filius waited patiently for the denial. And the half-blood said it first. Half-bloods are always the ones most attached to their wands.

"But…But that's impossible! We…Surely a wizard would feel some sense of enmity, dislike towards his wand. How can something take over my magical core so seamlessly?"

Lucius remained quiet. He was thinking.

"Well my analogy is not perfect. When a burglar breaks into your house, you feel violated and upset. With this analogy you would indeed have a period of discomfort, even if brief. The affinity prevents any feeling of violation. When the wand connects through the affinity, your core does not complain. It greets the wand as if it is a friend; a child who follows a stranger because he has candy or…An Erkling. An Erkling makes for a better analogy. The Erkling lures children with his song into a false sense of security before feasting on them. A wand likewise lures your magical core into a false sense of security as it captures your core and then feeds on it for spells." Lucius sat in disquiet as he listened while Severus seemed to find the whole thing difficult to believe. Flitwick was not surprised. Half-bloods (especially those who grew up in the muggle world) are extremely attached to their wands which aided them in their first expression of controlled magical ability. Purebloods however, merely leave amazed. They have more experience with accidental magic and many even attempt to do little displays of wandless magic.

"Okay. Let's try this. When were wands created?"

Now Lucius answered. "1754."

"What major event happened before wands were created."

"The Rise of the Ministry of Magic."

"Very good, Lucius. And directly before that?"

"The Fall of The Great Mage Emperor."

"Excellent. Now let's test your knowledge a bit more. What was the social structure like during the era of the last Mage Emperor?"

Lucius paused to think. He knows off the bat there was a feudal structure, but everyone knows that. He's sure that's not what Professor Flitwick is asking.

"Perhaps I am being a bit vague. When you think of the social structure, education, opportunities, and magic, what can you tell me?"

Now Lucius was able to develop a clearer picture of what Professor Flitwick wanted. "If I remember my studies correctly, there were very few trained wizards at the time. There were no institutions such as Hogwarts. There were private tutors who studied from archaic texts from the public library. But a majority of the public was illiterate, so the only ones to visit the library were the wealthy pureblood elites. Even the low-level purebloods, while literate, could not afford to hire magical tutors for their children. Therefore, unintentionally, the social structure at the time was based on those who could control their magic and those who couldn't."

"Outstanding, Lucius!"

Lord Malfoy took a moment to preen while Severus rolled his eyes.

"Except, many scholars who have studied that period are not entirely certain that indirect social structure was unintentional. It is not a mere coincidence that the ones who were able to afford private tutors were those who stood high in the Mage Emperor's favor and that everyone else was a serf in some way to someone who stood high in the Mage Emperor's favor. Back then, there were no wands. Magic was done wandlessly and it took a lot of studying and financial investment. Hence, the distribution of power was always held firmly within the hands of the Mage Emperor. Whenever the Mage Emperor was dethroned and replaced, it was always by a traitor within his own circle."

"Until Mage Emperor Cyrus."

"Yes. Emperor Cyrus was the first Mage Emperor to come from the lowest class; not only poor, but also a half-blood. No one knew where he came from. One day Tyros was Mage Emperor. Next, he was dead; killed by a low-class half-breed. There were no rules against it. And so Mage Emperor Cyrus came into power. Initially, he had good intentions and sought to spread magic throughout the kingdom. He funded a lot of research; the discoveries of which came to form the basis of wand-crafting. But he grew greedy and discontinued the research. When he died of old age, the first Emperor to ever do so, The Ministry rose. Society was looking for a way to 1) spread magic and make it easier to learn, and 2) control magic and prevent another mage emperor from coming to rise. At least, this is what many conspiracy theorists believe. It would certainly make sense. Magical Theorists have discovered that a wizard can never reach his full potential as long as he uses a wand. Indeed a wizard can be incredibly powerful, but he can never reach his utmost potential. They have also discovered something more…disturbing."

"Disturbing?"

Here Professor Flitwick paused, appearing to be almost afraid to speak further. In truth, Filius was not sure he _should_ speak further. These men were death eaters. Particularly, Lucius is a pureblood and well-known for believing muggles and their culture have no place in the Wizarding world. And though Filius himself preferred to remain intellectually aloof on the subject, he was never partial to Lord Voldemort's idea of killing off all muggles. A stringent isolationist policy was as far as he ever went.

However, he also knows why Lucius and Severus are here. He knows things aren't looking up for Mr. Potter…and he knows what Dumbledore intends to do. Flitwick did not rise and fight one Dark Lord just to see another one rise in its place. Dark Lords…Many thought the world would be a better place without them. Filius was tentative to agree. Dark Lords were like corks; trying to plug a hole that was punched in the ship ages ago, but only ever making the ship sink faster. Dark Lord Evertine came close though. So close…

Flitwick always felt no one really knew young Harry's true purpose. But Flitwick had a suspicion. And these two men were the only ones he knew with the ambition to help. Now it's up to Flitwick to put the wheel in motion to fixing things.

Or the wheel in motion to utter destruction.

Flitwick squirmed and frowned.

Faith is a deeply uncomfortable thing for a Ravenclaw.

"Yes…A few Magical Theorists claim that the increase in the birth of muggleborns is a sign that magic is dying."

"What!?"

"I tell you this tentatively, Lord Malfoy. You joined The Dark Lord, so I know where your heart lies on the topic of muggles. However, I also know what this research states. It states that muggleborns are an attempt by the earth to generate more magic to feed back into the cycle because wands do not funnel magic back into the earth the same way wandless magic does. Wands destroy 70% of the magic used in a spell, meaning only 30% of it returns to the earth. Meanwhile, wandless magic returns 100% both directly and indirectly. Irrespective of the meaning muggleborns have, I'm still glad The Dark Lord was destroyed. Killing muggleborns or muggles would have sped up magic's death and then in the future, wizards would give birth to squibs and then everyone would lose. Do you understand me?"

Flitwick looked more than a bit worried about Lucius's response, but Lucius nodded. He understood perfectly what Flitwick was saying. Muggleborns may be a sign of a problem, but they were a solution as well; a solution to a problem Wizards created. Lucius looked down at his wand and felt almost betrayed.

"So then breaking a wand is actually not crippling, but liberating."

"Yes. But our world makes it difficult for those who do so. Breaking your wand means you are now unable to use the swishes and flicks I regularly teach in my class. It means you now have to learn to tap into something you've never had to tap into before. Magic is wonderful and capable of doing near anything you can imagine. But it's also incredibly difficult to use for most wizards. You can tap into it freely as you wish, but molding it; visualizing what you want and communicating it through your magic is difficult. It requires imagination, creativity, intuition; three things Ravenclaws such as me aren't very good at. It forever amazes me Ms. Lovegood ended up in my house; exceptionally brilliant, yet exceptionally odd. The hat had nowhere else to put her, I suppose. A bit too quiet for Gryffindor. Far too absentminded for Slytherin. Too aloof for Hufflepuff…Anyway, I digress. Creativity and Intuition are two skills we've lost as wizards." Here Flitwick paused. "And they're two skills you're going to have to give Mr. Potter if he is ever to practice magic again."

He smiled at the stricken look on both men's faces.

"Oh! Don't be so concerned. You weren't obvious or anything. Being so short, I'm quite good at avoiding being noticed. But you're dulling, Severus."

Severus froze as he realized he lost track of Flitwick's movements during the frenzy.

"Eitherway, I'm very pleasantly surprised by your mutual desire to help young Potter. He will certainly need it."

Lucius coughed, uncomfortable that they'd been so careless. "You never did answer our question."

Filius smiled.

"Well why don't you answer it yourself? A wand in essence, captures you and controls you. What do you think happens when that control is broken and your magic is given enough time to realize what has happened? Do you think that control can be re-instated? Your core keeps an imprint of anything that interacts with it. A wand is no different, I imagine."

Lucius decided that topic was just too much for him at the moment, so he moved on.

"How are we to teach him?"

Now Filius gave off a very broad smile; almost mischievous.

"The Flitwick library, of course! France long before Britain implemented the idea of a Ministry of Magic and attempted to get rid of wandless magic, but The Auclairs, known for being intellectuals, were forced to go into hiding with all their texts. Fortunately, they were able to hide out for years before making their way to Britain, quickly assimilating and living out their lives unrecognized. The texts were comfortably assimilated into the Flitwick library and exist to this day. Albus has been desperate to access that library, but I've been pushing him off. I'm not going to let you see all of it of course, but I can show you a small portion. That is, if you'll allow me in on this project of yours."

Both men left Professor Flitwick's office with much on their minds to process; re-affirming that even as adults, they have much to learn about themselves.

Two hours later.

12:00 in the afternoon

"So what do you think? Filius never told us directly, but I believe we both know what he says we can do for Mr. Potter."

Lucius nodded quietly. Every time the idea entered his mind, it sounded ludicrous. A wizard who functions with only wandless magic. Never had such a wizard been heard of in modern history. The idea was also frightening. Without expertise in the subject, the best thing that could happen is they're successful. The worst thing that can happen is they break the boy and damage his core.

"I-I don't know. We could hurt him."

Severus had thought of that. "But as a wizard, isn't he already broken if he can't perform magic?"

Lucius had thought of that too. "There are worse things than being a squib." Lucius couldn't believe such words had exited his mouth.

Severus snorted. "Not when you feel the magic just beneath your fingertips. Not to mention, Potter is a powerful, only half-trained wizard. He will have bouts of accidental magic, leaving both himself and others in danger. He also may ask himself in the future, 'why can't I do wandless magic?' And try to master the art on his own. Leaving him and others in even more danger."

Lucius and Severus continued discussing long into midnight, when they decided to sleep on the subject and come to a decision in the morning before classes.

**Chapter End.**

**Author Note: **So there we go! :) I hope you all enjoyed what I wrote. Be sure to tell me if you did! Reviews are like cookies: I can never have enough! And if you didn't enjoy the chapter or think there's something I could've done better, then still inform me. There's always room for improvement. And the worst thing would be to stay stagnant.

Auf Wiedersehen!


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